


stick with me baby

by FreshBrains



Series: Femslash Yuletide [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Family, Femslash Yuletide, Fluff, Mating Rituals, Miscommunication, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-06
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-03 15:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1072033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreshBrains/pseuds/FreshBrains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It’s like, if you’re with someone for a certain amount of time, and both parties consent to it, you can be married without a ceremony or any of that shit.  It just sort of happens.”  Laura exhaled.  “It’s a mating thing for werewolves.”  </p><p>Laura usually explained all the weird werewolf stuff as "mating things," but at the word <i>married</i>, Lydia looked over at her slowly, her eyes steely.  “Oh, Laura.  Please do not tell me what I think you're telling me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> For the [Femslash Yuletide](http://femslashyuletide.tumblr.com/) Day 5 "Family Dinner" prompt

“So…the redhead is coming to dinner. _Christmas_ dinner,” Derek said into the phone, voice flat and unrevealing as ever.

Laura sighed. She knew it was only the first of many sighs of the holiday season, especially if she kept getting phone calls from Talia, Derek, Cora, and Peter about her new girlfriend who Laura sort-of-accidentally-on-purpose neglected to tell them about until the twenty-first. She busied herself with unpacking the shopping bags one-handed, pulling out cheap tinsel and Dollar Tree Christmas knick-knacks to spice up her and Lydia’s lackluster apartment.

“Yes, that would be the dinner. And don’t give me any shit; you’re bringing your girlfriend, why shouldn’t I bring mine?” Laura glanced across the apartment to Lydia, who sat at the tiny kitchen table, hunched over a textbook. She pulled the phone away and said, “Oh, Lydia sweetie, my darling brother is on the phone, say hello.”

Lydia gave her a saccharine-sweet smile and flipped the bird before pushing her reading glasses up her nose and returning to her book. Laura returned the gesture and replaced the phone back between her shoulder and ear just in time for Derek to end his grumbling rant.

“Maybe because none of us knew you even had a girlfriend before three days ago, nonetheless a Lydia Martin-type girlfriend.”

“And why do you think that is?” Laura rolled her eyes with enough force that she knew Derek could practically hear it. She draped a piece of blue tinsel over the never-used stone fireplace where they stored Lydia’s undergrad textbooks and Laura’s badminton set.

Derek sighed. “You’ve brought boyfriends home and we’ve never cared.”

“Yeah, _boy_ friends,” Laura snapped. “I’m not exactly looking forward to Uncle Peter’s ‘so tell me about your lovely lady’ creepy eyes.” Lydia looked up from her homework, nose wrinkled. “ _Don’t worry about it_ ,” Laura mouthed away from the phone.

“If he makes a big deal out of it, you know Mom will put him in his place.”

“She always does,” Laura agreed dryly.

“Thanks for sending me pictures, by the way. I love seeing my sister kissing people on my phone. It’s great, thank you for that.”

“You never quite mastered that sarcasm, Derek.” Laura knew he was just being a tool—the pictures were sweet and tame, and she loved them. It was all her and Lydia at the beach in floppy sunhats the previous summer, her and Lydia driving a rented convertible down the canyon, her and Lydia snuggled on the couch drinking hot chocolate. Derek wouldn’t know sweet if it bit him in the dick.

Derek ignored her. “Seriously. Lydia Martin? The _banshee_?”

“Goodbye, Derek. I’ll see you— _we’ll_ see you in a few days. Love you.”

The second Laura hung up the phone, she groaned and face-planted into the couch, burying her face in the pillows. “My family _sucks_.”

Lydia scoffed, closing her textbook and folding her reading glasses back into their case. “Please. Your family is totally fine. At least your mom didn’t ask you if it was because you never had a strong male figure around the house like mine did.”

“Well, my dad did die when I was a baby,” Laura said with a shrug. “Maybe that’s the reason.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and walked over to the couch, leaning over the armrest to look down at her girlfriend. “Oh, I’m sure. Daddy issues. The number one creator of lesbians since the beginning of time.”

Laura stifled her laugh in a pillow. “Come on, you know I was kidding. It isn’t about the girlfriend thing, it’s about the not-telling-them-about-the-girlfriend thing.” She peeked out from behind the fabric and looked up at Lydia. “Does it piss you off?”

Lydia sighed and sat down on the floor next to the couch, idly playing with a strand Laura’s long dark hair. “Does what piss me off?”

“The fact that I didn’t tell them. The fact that they didn’t even know we went to the same college, or that we even talked to each other, or that we’ve been living together for six months.” Laura rolled over onto her stomach, facing Lydia. She pressed her cheek into the itchy fabric of the couch and let Lydia smooth her hair back like a mother wolf. “Werewolves are tight with their families. And I know you know that because you know more about werewolves than any werewolf I know.”

Lydia smiled, beaming. “Damn right I do, even though that sentence was a mess. And no, it doesn’t piss me off. Not at all. It does _concern_ me, though.”

“Uh-oh,” said Laura, and laughed when Lydia poked her in the side.

Lydia sat down on the bare floor of their small loft apartment, ignoring the cold cement against her butt. Her usually-perfect hair was tied in a messy bun with a pencil sticking out of it, and her pink sweater (Laura’s pink sweater, actually) had a coffee stain on the front. “You love your family, and you love me. It worries me that…well, it worries _you_.” 

Laura sat up a little, resting on her elbow. “Don’t let it worry you. Werewolf families are tricky. We get, like, intense. Fast.”

Lydia gave her a wary look. “Did you get me pregnant with some weird werewolf magic?”

Laura dove back into the pillows with a groan. “Oh my god, that would actually be a lot more easy than what they’re expecting.”

Lydia barked out a laugh and joined Laura on the couch, sitting primly on the small of her back. Laura let out an _oomph_ when she crossed her legs. “Now I’m _very_ concerned. What’s on your mind? Why are you so nervous about taking me back to Beacon Hills?”

“Aren’t you nervous?” Laura reached up for Lydia’s hand and felt calmer when she squeezed back, fingers dry and cool.

“Of course I am,” Lydia said honestly in the sort of way Laura never heard her speak in Beacon Hills. “It’s been years. I mean, we see the pack and everything, but I’m so used to being scattered all over. It’ll be weird being so close to everyone again.” She gently tugged Laura’s hair like a petulant child. “Tell me what’s going on. What is your family expecting?”

Laura sighed and curled her hand up to rest beneath her cheek, something she used to do as a little girl when she was stressed. “There’s this thing. A werewolf thing.”

“For once, I wish there was a banshee thing. Why can’t I ever just have a banshee thing?” Lydia got up and shoved Laura aside to sit next to her on the couch. “Let’s hear it.”

Laura bit her thumbnail. “Do you know what a common law marriage is?”

Lydia thought for a second and shook her head. 

“It changes, depending on the place…but it’s like, if you’re with someone for a certain amount of time, and both parties consent to it, you can be married without a ceremony or any of that shit. It just happens.” Laura exhaled. “It’s a mating thing for werewolves.”

At the word married, Lydia looked over at Laura slowly, her eyes steely. “Oh, Laura.”

“I didn’t even remember it! Nobody in my family has ever done this!”

It was Lydia’s turn to flop onto the couch like a ragdoll, her stocking feet in Laura’s lap. “And I’m guessing it doesn’t involve a cohabiting period of three years? I’m going to shoot for _six months_?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “Lydia, you totally knew what a common law marriage was! What the hell?”

Lydia sat up, distressed. “I wanted to see if you knew what it was! I was hoping you made some sort of mistake!” She balled her fists in frustration.

Laura pressed her fingers to her temples. Being an alpha was harder than she gave herself credit for. “It isn’t official. Like I said, it involves consent. But the thing is…”

“They expect it,” Lydia deadpanned. “Six months of cohabitation is pretty much a lifelong mating bond for werewolves.” She huffed and crossed her arms. “I read books, I know how you work.”

Laura leaned back on the couch. “Hey,” she said, nudging Lydia in the shoulder. “Hey, come here Little Red.”

Lydia screwed up her face in distaste but cuddled into the warm circle of Laura’s arms, resting her cheek against Laura’s shoulder. “You know I hate that nickname.”

“Would you prefer Riding Hood?”

“I prefer Lydia, or soon-to-be Dr. Lydia.”

“Of course,” Laura laughed, pressing a kiss to Lydia’s hair. “We’ll figure this out, I promise,” Laura said. “You may be stuck with me forever, but not because of some stupid mating ritual.”

“It’s because I sort of like you,” Lydia said.

Laura nodded. “I like you too.” They sat in silence for a little bit, both of them thinking hard about the next step.

Lydia got up and brushed her yoga pants off, untying her knotted hair. “Does your family like pie? Like pumpkin and that shit? I’m going to make a pie. Do mates make pies, is that a thing?”

Laura returned to floppy mode and went face first into the pillows. “This is going to be the weirdest Christmas dinner ever.”


	2. Pass Around the Coffee and the Pumpkin Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura groaned. “When a female werewolf is starting to settle down, their body gets ready for a kid. It’s just natural, it doesn’t really mean anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the [Femslash Yuletide](http://femslashyuletide.tumblr.com/) Day 8 "Sweets and Treats" prompt

“Okay, I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that you’ve already asked Marin to bring over a thousand books on werewolf mating since I last talked to you.” Laura perched on the edge of one of the barstools that kept lining the kitchen counter, breathing in the mouthwatering smell of gingerbread baking in the oven.

“You would not be incorrect,” Lydia said without looking up, wiping her hands on the red and white striped apron Laura bought her as a joke when they moved in together. “Do we have any almond extract?”

“Check the spices, I think we have some.” Laura sampled a nibble of pumpkin cheesecake from a pan on the counter while Lydia wasn’t looking. “So what are you thinking?”

“About?” Lydia turned on the electric mixer, holding Laura’s answer off for a few minutes.

Laura crossed her arms over the counter and rested her chin on her hand. “Lydia, I’m serious, you’re driving me insane. You have to be feeling something about this.”

Lydia closed her eyes for a moment before taking the beaters off the mixer and giving them to Laura to lick clean. “Of course I’ve been thinking about it. And _feeling_. A lot of things. I just…” she sighed, and threw some more flour out on the metal surface of the counter. “Laura, how could you not remember something like this?”

“ _Mating_ ,” Laura blurted out, lifting her head off the table and waving the still-sticky beaters in the air. “We need to stop saying _this_ , like it’s a dirty word.”

“Fine, I agree. Mating. Mates. So I’ll ask again, how could you forget about this?”

Laura shrugged, licking the batter off the beaters like a puppy licking her wounds. “I already told you. It isn’t really a thing in my family, we never did it that way. Mating is traditionally a little more formal.”

Lydia held back a smile. “So I guess you’re more of a modern wolf?”

Laura snorted. “Or a sloppy wolf. Either way, I was the only one in my family who didn’t see this coming. My mom probably went right to the calendar when I told her we’ve been living together since June.”

“But if they saw this coming, they must’ve known you had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, or _someone_. Doesn’t the pack sense it?”

“Not really, not anymore, since I’m not technically in the pack. But they had suspicions. Especially the women.”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. “Explain.”

Laura reached over to swipe a dollop of icing from the bowl with her pinkie, ignoring Lydia’s slap. “Cycles. Lady cycles.”

“Good lord, you can use adult words. What does that mean? Do I affect your ovulation or something?” Lydia stood with her hands on her hips, and then straightened up a little, cheeks pink with pride. “That’s kind of awesome.”

Laura groaned. “When a female werewolf is starting to settle down, their body gets ready for a kid. It’s just natural, it doesn’t really mean anything.”

Lydia laughed out loud despite Laura’s obvious discomfort. “I’m glad I’m baking all this food, we have to get your childbearing hips all ready to go.”

“You laugh now, but you won’t be when Peter asks you if you’re ready for motherhood. And he will.”

Lydia scoffed. “Gross. You know I have nothing to say to him.” There was a small conflict years before after high school graduation where Lydia and Allison took Peter on alone in the forest and won hands down. Peter changed, not drastically, but he knew Lydia wasn’t going anywhere and that she’d paid her dues. He respected her as a fighter and a banshee, but not as a part of the family.

“It won’t even be out of spite. Werewolves may have a mean streak, but we love two things.”

“Food and babies,” Lydia answered in a sigh. “Yeah, yeah. But what are we going to do? Do you want to get married?”

Laura groaned again. Groaning in abject misery and embarrassment was starting to become the soundtrack of their holiday season. “No, that’s not what this is about. It’s just physical. I promise. This isn’t about me wanting to move to the suburbs and get a mom haircut and have a bunch of genius redhead werewolf children.”

Lydia paused at the counter from where she had moved on to a pile of sugar cookie dough. She set down the rolling pin and walked over behind Laura, wrapping her flour-covered arms around her body. “I know. This is just hard to wrap my head around. This is like the werewolf equivalent of my mom asking when I’d be getting an engagement ring.”

Laura glanced up. “Has she really asked you that?”

Lydia nibbled on the top of Laura’s ear, eliciting a low growl. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just saying, this sort of thing is normal for all families. These expectations and everything. You haven’t really talked to them much over the last couple of years, and I bet they’re just worried about you. They want you to be happy.” She pressed a kiss to Laura’s head and retied her apron in the back. “Except Peter. He’s just a dick.”

“Very true,” Laura said, leaning back and closing her eyes. She reached out and pulled Lydia back in, ignoring her protesting. “You smell amazing. Like vanilla. And sex.”

“ _Mmm_ , you know just what to say to rile a girl up,” Lydia said wryly, pressing one more kiss to Laura’s cheek before sidling away to the oven. “But we should probably avoid sex for a little bit. You’re very fertile right now, I wouldn’t want to have an oopsie.”

“That would be quite the news to share over dinner,” Laura laughed, peering over at the icing bowl. “Are you going to use that, or is it free game?”

Lydia slapped her hands away again, laughing. “Get out of my kitchen! Go to the store, I need a few things for my next recipe. And stop by Marin’s and grab the books I asked her for, okay?” Lydia tossed Laura her red pea-coat and scarf from the kitchen chair. 

“Yes, your majesty. Want me to pick up anything for dinner?”

“No, we’re having pecan pie and homemade apple cider caramels for our next six meals. Jesus Christ, I baked a lot.”

“Stress baking. Good for the soul, bad for the ass.”

“Here,” Lydia said, grabbing the basket they kept magazines and car keys in from the middle of the counter. She loaded it with wrapped cakes and cookies. “Take these to Marin.”

Laura begrudgingly took the basket. “How the tables have turned, Little Red.” Lydia’s evil laughter followed Laura as she left the apartment and walked out into the cool December air.


	3. Cheeks Are Nice and Rosy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marin opened the door, letting out a burst of warm, spicy-smelling air. She cocked an eyebrow and remained in the doorway, not letting Laura in. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the bride-to-be. Leave it up to my alpha to get married on accident the second we separate.”

“Let me in, Morrell, I’m freezing my tits off out here!” Laura bobbed up and down on Marin’s front steps, rubbing warmth into her arms. She was a werewolf, but she still hated the cold—it was bad enough that Lydia insisted on hogging the blankets, but she also took possession of Laura’s nicest cashmere sweater and three pairs of her wool socks.

Marin opened the door, letting out a burst of warm, spicy-smelling air. She cocked an eyebrow and remained in the doorway, not letting Laura in. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the bride-to-be. Leave it up to my alpha to get married on accident the second we separate.”

Laura sneered. “I knew you’d be a smug little bitch about this. If you don’t let me inside, I can’t give you these,” she said, holding up the basket of Lydia’s baked goods. “You know I’ll just huff and puff either way.”

Marin rolled her eyes. “Lydia called me right after you told her about the dinner and I only laughed for fifteen minutes straight. You’re lucky I’m so nice.” She peered into the basket. “Is that cheesecake?”

Laura gave her an evil smile. “Put some coffee on, I’m going to be here for awhile.”

*

Marin tossed a heavy book onto the coffee table, startling Laura out of the beginnings of her cookie-and-coffee coma. “I finally found the Mating Codes. I haven’t looked at it in years; I just suspected you and Derek were lost causes.”

“What about Cora?” Laura asked, lip wrinkled as she stared at the giant book in disdain.

“She has some time left. Besides, she's cuter and much nicer than you ever were.”

“You’re really laying it on thick today, buddy. You mad at me?” Laura pulled her feet off the coffee table in a gesture of kindness—Marin was a neat freak, something Laura had to suffer when they were roommates.

Marin shook her head and sat down in the leather stuffed chair across from Laura, opening up the book of Mating Codes to the table of contents. “I’m not mad. I’m not even surprised. I’ve been marking this on the calendar since August.”

Laura threw her hands in the air, scattering almond shortbread crumbs onto the chintz sofa. “For fucks’ sake, has everyone been expecting this but me?”

Marin rolled her eyes again—she was even a better eye-roller than Derek and Talia combined; Laura never figured out how she did it. “We all thought you were in on it, dumbass! There are only a few key mating codes, and the Nesting Bond is the third most common.”

“The Nesting Bond? Seriously? Am I a bird?” Laura tried to imagine Lydia curled up in a nest made of sticks and spit and giggled a little.

Marin slid the book over to Laura and showed her chapter four—"The Nesting Bond, The Habitat Bond, and other Natural Werewolf Mating Rituals". “Read the second paragraph.”

“Most often, mating season takes place anywhere between December and March, and involves an alpha werewolf and the mate of their choice.” Laura sighed. “Well, it looks like I’m two for two at this point.”

“Keep reading,” Marin urged. “You’re not even at the good part yet.”

Laura gave her a nasty glance before continuing. “Unlike in years past, werewolf mating has taken on a more modern form. Often, courting can last anywhere from one week to two years and the mating bond is the werewolf equivalent to marriage. It involves ceremony, an exchange of tokens, permission from an elder alpha, and a blood bond. On the next full moon, the physically mating of the alpha and their chosen secures the mating bond.” Laura nodded. “This is what I thought mating was like. Formal. On purpose. Like, everyone taking part actually knew it was happening.”

“That’s the most popular form of mating,” Marin said, leaning over and flipping three pages ahead. “It mirrors human wedding rituals. Now read this.”

“For newly independent alpha wolves, mating can be much less formal. In the end, mating is not about ceremony or rules, it is about finding a strong and loyal partner to protect the pack with. This is when the Nesting and Habitat bonds can take place.” Laura leaned back on the couch, nibbling forlornly on her shortbread. “I don’t even want to know. You’ll just rub my stupidity in my face.”

At this, Marin got up and settled onto the couch next to Laura, slinging her arm around her like they did when they were little girls. “I may be a bitch, but I’m also your best friend and your emissary. It’s my job to slap some sense into you then give you a hug afterwards. So I’m going to tell it to you straight.” She shifted over and turned to face Laura, hands in her lap. “The Nesting bond isn’t accidental. None of it is, and deep down, you know that. Six months of happy, consistent cohabitation is a big deal for any werewolf, and it means more than just a fling. You’re ready, Laura.” She gave her a soft smile, one side of her mouth curled up and her eyes downcast, the secret smile she reserved only for her alpha. “If anyone could tell, it would be me.”

Laura nodded, lips pursed. “I mean, I guess I knew. I mean, I _know_. I love Lydia. She’s the only person I’ll ever love. But _this_ —this is forever.”

“But that’s what you want! Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t picking out your wedding dress in the third grade, because I still have your scrapbook. I’m not letting you wear Converse sneakers down the aisle, just so we’re clear.”

Laura socked Marin in the shoulder, but not too hard. “Of course I want to get married. But I want Lydia to want it, too. I don’t want to blame it on werewolf rituals and myths.” She shrugged and brushed her hair back, trying to play nonchalant, but Marin could see tears welling in her eyes. “Lydia is so special. She’s always known exactly what she wants. And I still get this fucked up feeling that it isn’t me.”

Marin took Laura’s hand. “The bond goes two ways, Laura. It wouldn’t happen if Lydia didn’t want it. You both have felt it over the last six months, you just haven’t realized it.”

Laura thought for a second and snapped into attention when she recalled a moment two months prior. “Holy shit. The picture frames.”

Marin laughed. “You are so fucking dense.”

Laura and Lydia were both women of impeccable taste, but it just so happened that their taste went in wildly different directions. While Laura preferred dark leather, heavy wood, and rustic décor, Lydia wanted flowers, pastels, and white wicker. It made home shopping a nightmare—it took them three weeks to pick out a comforter for their bed (they settled on pale blue and dark green pinstripes) and almost a month to find a painting to hang above the mantle (Laura wanted a nature scene, Lydia wanted _just flowers_ ). But it all came to a head when they picked their favorite couple photograph—Lydia perched in Laura’s lap, kissing the side of her face, both of them in red bridesmaid dresses on Allison’s wedding day—and needed a frame for it. It was a special moment in their relationship captured on camera—it was before they moved in together, before the pack (excluding the Hale family) knew about them, before they even knew how much they adored each other. And they wanted a nice frame for it.

At the department store, they both braced themselves for bickering and going home empty-handed, but they both picked out the same frame at the exact same time—pale oak with etchings of ivy all around the frame, simple and stark and delicate. It was the first time they ever agreed on anything, and that night, they made love in their dark bedroom with the framed photographed hanging on the wall above them.

“I’m so fucking dense,” Laura agreed. “I should just start a hope chest and knit booties for our future children at this point.”

“That would be _really_ funny,” Marin said, clearing up their dishes, “but I suggest you start smaller.”

“How small?” Laura asked with a grimace, always uncomfortable with sentimental gestures on any scale.

Marin smiled, patting Laura on the shoulder. “Maybe…a ring?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've changed the rating from "G" to "T" and I've removed the "Christmas Fluff" tag, since this fic has acquired a mind of it's own.


	4. Like Two Birds of a Feather

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was going to show the Hales how serious she was about her relationship with Laura—before simply showing up for a Christmas dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a little bit longer than others. I'll be finished by the end of next week!

Once she heard the tell-tale click of Laura’s high-heeled brown leather boots down the sidewalk outside the loft, Lydia pulled off her apron, turned off the oven, and sat at the kitchen table, glass of wine in hand.

There was something bothering her about the entire situation with Laura, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. They’d just gotten so comfortable with each other—they had their morning routines, they knew their favorite diners and desserts and spots to sit in the movie theater. There was no will they/won’t they, no “where is this going” hanging over their heads. They were Laura-and-Lydia, Lydia-and-Laura, even if it was just the two of them against the world and they missed the pack in Beacon Hills sometimes.

While Laura’s family didn’t know about her relationship with Lydia, most of the pack knew. Allison, of course, since she and Lydia were still besties and they still had their weekly Skype chats. Scott, because he was Lydia’s second-best friend and Allison told him everything anyways. Stiles, because he was alarmingly perceptive (and nosy). Lydia’s mother knew, but that didn’t matter, because she spent more time vacationing with her newest boy-toy than calling Lydia to ask how she’s doing.

Lydia’s relationship with Laura was the first thing Lydia ever did just for herself; it was the first thing she did selfishly. She may have put on the queen-bee pose in high school, but she always looked out for her friends, no matter what. When she went off to college and found out Laura Hale, Derek’s scary older sister and owner of the killer eyebrows, was starting grad school on the same campus, she was frustrated—there was no escaping werewolves it seemed, so she’d just have to get used to it. She’d have to take care of herself.

But then she started seeing Laura striding around campus in her tall boots and red scarf, legs long and back straight. She saw Laura attend science seminars, club bake sales, Take Back the Night rallies. She saw Laura at the bars across town, flirting with boys and girls alike.

She started to see Laura differently. She started to _see_ Laura.

It hadn’t started perfectly—Lydia had just met up with Aiden again and he disappeared to fuck-all nowhere (again), and she wanted to get good and drunk before slinking back to her dorm to marathon _Battlestar Galactica_ on Netflix. But instead, she found Laura on a barstool, sipping a beer and wearing the shortest blue dress Lydia had ever seen.

A wild night and a few love bites later, and Lydia had herself a Hale werewolf that she actually _liked_. She liked the way Laura joked, the way she swore. She liked how they both needed private time and alone time and how easy it was to figure each other’s boundaries out. She liked how Laura was never much of an academic (she preferred hands-on work with her degree) but listened to Lydia’s endless mathematical rants with attentive ears. Lydia never once asked about Laura’s family, and Laura preferred it that way—after the moved away from the pack, she was sort of the black sheep, so to speak, although she’d always love her family.

Lydia coveted Laura; she wanted to burrow against her and never let her go. They made each other happy.

But as Lydia sat at the kitchen table, fingers laced under her chin and wine untouched on the table, she wondered if that private, intimate love would be the only glue they’d need for their relationship to go the distance.

_It’s just physical_ , Laura insisted about the bond. _It doesn’t mean anything_. But Lydia was too worried to tell Laura how she’d felt it as well, that connection, that spark they had together. It wasn’t just physical. It was _real_.

Lydia sighed and stood up from the table. As she went to the bedroom to change, she grabbed her phone and dialed Laura’s number.

“Hey sweetheart, are you drowning in baked goods? Do you need me to come save you?” Laura’s voice was cheerful.

Lydia smiled, wrapping her winter scarf around her neck. “No, I’m done baking for a bit. I actually just got off the phone with Allison.” Lydia could only lie over the phone; Laura could sniff it out in person. “Scott and Stiles are going to some lacrosse thing a few towns over, so I think I’m going to go stay with Allison for the weekend. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Oh…in Beacon Hills?” Laura sounded surprised, and Lydia didn’t blame her. They visited home a few times a year, but never together—it was usually a carefully planned event.

“Yeah, sorry for the short notice. I’ll be home by Sunday afternoon, though.” Lydia checked her purse to see if she had her PDA and enough cash for the trip.

“No, don’t worry about it. Have fun, okay? Call me when you get there.” 

“I will. Love you,” Lydia said, wishing she could just take Laura with her.

“Love you.”

*

The drive seemed to take forever, and when she was three miles out, she called Allison. 

“Hey, I haven’t heard from you in forever!”

“I know, I’ve been a terrible best friend,” Lydia said, chest warming at the sound of Allison’s voice.

“Stop, we’ve both been busy,” Allison said, good-natured as always. “Are you driving?”

“Yeah,” Lydia said, swallowing heavily. “And I’m about to ask you for a huge favor.”

“Of course, anything.”

“Can you put me up for a few nights? I’m almost in Beacon Hills.”

There was a slight shuffling on the other line, and she heard Allison’s excited voice saying _Lydia is in Beacon Hills, Scott_. She got back on the line. “Of course! We’d love to have you. This is so unexpected.” She hesitated. “Is, uh, Laura with you?”

Lydia sighed, her palms suddenly sweating. “No. But I’m going to go visit her family.”

*

Once she was settled into Allison and Scott’s guest room (and after enduring an anxiety-ridden pep talk from Scott—“Talia Hale is like, _super_ gorgeous…and she’s crazy tall…just don’t look her in the eye”), Lydia put on her nicest plum-purple skirt and grey cashmere sweater, threaded a gold barrette through her long hair, and made the intrepid winter drive to the Hale house in the middle of the woods.

The house looked much better than it had when Derek was just living there—glittering Christmas lights blazed on the gutters and sweet-scented pine trees decorated the front path. Lydia grabbed her purse and got out of the car before she could chicken out, head held high and back straight.

She was going to show the Hales how serious she was about her relationship with Laura—before simply showing up for a Christmas dinner.

She raised her fist to knock on the door, but before she could make a sound, the door flew open and Peter Hale smirked at her, looking as smarmy and foul as ever in an admittedly dapper cashmere sweater. 

“Well well, if it isn’t Little Red, back in Beacon Hills. Looking pretty as ever, of course.” Peter looked her up and down, the same old mixture of boredom and lecherousness panning across his face.

Lydia shuddered, willing away unpleasant memories and ignoring the spark of heated anger that shot through her stomach at the sound of Peter’s voice using Laura’s special nickname. “Peter, unpleasant as always. I’m not here to see you. Is the mistress of the house home?” Lydia wasted no time getting right down to business.

Peter looked a bit annoyed, most likely because his presence as male head of household was completely ignored. “She’s home, yes. But I’m sure she wouldn’t be overjoyed to see the banshee without her daughter. Especially since the banshee is the reason Laura doesn’t come home anymore.”

Lydia flinched a little, like she was back in high school and Peter was running around town causing trouble with the younger werewolves. She felt like she’d never left—and it wasn’t a good feeling. “I’ve always supported the choices Laura made when it came to her family. I’d never ask her to compromise her pack.”

Peter sneered, and the cold started to seep through Lydia’s coat. “She didn’t even _have_ to ask you.”

Lydia swallowed, tears pricking to her eyes. Was it true? Did Laura stay away from her childhood home, from her pack, all because she thought it was what Lydia wanted? Lydia and the Hales didn’t have a great track record, but Lydia understood the importance of family, especially since her own was so lackluster.

“Peter, if a guest asks for the lady of the house, its proper etiquette to consent to her wishes,” a stern voice said from inside. Peter turned around and Lydia peered in to see Talia Hale descend from the staircase, looking regal and flawless as any matriarch should.

Peter’s jaw clenched, but he gave Lydia one last glare before disappearing into the house. Talia slid into his place and extended a hand to Lydia. “Hello, Miss Martin, please come inside. You must be freezing.”

Lydia nodded, still a little stunned at how gorgeous and poised Talia was, and how much of her good looks she passed onto Laura (the hair, the eyes, _definitely_ the bone structure). She stepped inside, careful to keep her boots on the rug. “I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead. I hope I didn’t come at a bad time.”

Talia waved away Lydia’s concern, her face relaxed. “I always have time for my children and their partners. Let’s go into the kitchen. We might actually have some privacy there.” The house was buzzing with energy from every direction—laughing, speaking, children playing. It was the sweet sort of home Lydia wished she could’ve grown up in. Her face warmed a little at the thought of Laura learning how to walk in the house, learning how to drive out front, lying in her childhood bed in her underwear with a phone cord wrapped around her wrist.

Before they could make it down the hallway, Derek appeared at the top of the stairs, looking as dark and brooding as ever. He reminded Lydia of an owl peering out of its nest. “I thought you were coming for Christmas. Where’s my sister?”

“Lydia came by herself,” Talia said firmly, and Derek softened a little.

“He might as well come too. I came to speak to both of you, actually,” Lydia said, trying to keep the nerves out of her voice. Talia raised her eyebrows as Derek clamored down the stairs. 

“Is Laura okay?” Derek was trying to be tough, but his face was drawn with concern.

“Laura is fine, I promise,” Lydia said, hands up in defense. “She doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Then why _are_ you here?” Derek crossed his arms.

“Derek, Lydia is our guest. Now we’re going into the kitchen to speak like adults, so why don’t you put some coffee on and join us?” Talia was the picture of poise in a smooth burgundy sweater dress and gold jeweled necklace. She really was the queen of her castle.

Once they were settled in the Hale’s warm, spacious kitchen, Talia crossed her legs and asked, “So, Lydia, is this about your Christmas visit, or something a little more special?” Her voice was questioning, but her eyes were all-knowing.

Lydia glanced to Derek, whose jaw was still ticking with anxiety. “A little more special, I think. I’m not really sure how much you know about Laura and mine’s relationship, but she told me that if an alpha werewolf cohabitates with a potential mate for six months, then some sort of mating bond can be formed.” She tried to sound sure of herself, perfectly in-control and Lydia-esque, but she was admittedly pretty clueless.

Talia smiled, the sort of knowing smile that only mothers could pull off. “Yes, when she told us about your relationship, we went right to the calendar. We even wondering if you’d decided to have children already.” She eyed Lydia’s flat stomach. “But I can see you’re not there yet.”

Lydia blushed a little. “Maybe Laura decided to carry. She’s got, uh…a softer body.”

It was Derek’s turn to blush, and Talia suppressed a laugh. “Oh, I’d know if my Laura was pregnant. I’m just giving you a hard time.” She folded her hands on the table, the picture of poise once more. “But in all honesty, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

Lydia sat up a little straighter. “What do you mean?”

Talia sighed. “Laura’s a strong woman, but werewolf studies and mythology were never her strong suit. Bonding is always, _always_ a choice, Miss Martin. If not, we would’ve been faced with arranged marriages and years of oppression at the hands of a patriarchal system.”

Lydia exhaled deeply. The pieces were falling into place… _I should’ve know, I should’ve read Marin’s books before going right to the Hale house_. “So there can’t be a bond when a partner is unwilling.”

Talia nodded. “And in a heterosexual relationship, a woman cannot get pregnant if she does not want to. That’s why our population is so well-controlled. It may sound a little sugary, but to bring life and growth into our world, there needs to be love.”

Lydia was impressed—automatic werewolf birth control? Sounded pretty nice. “So…what if Laura and I were both ready? What if we both wanted each other, and no one else, and there was the, uh, love element in there?” Talia was right…it was a nice concept, but pretty cheesy out loud. “Would we bond?”

Talia sipped her coffee serenely, giving nothing away. “If there was a bond, you would feel it. The earth doesn’t move. Flowers won’t bloom for it. It would just be there. It’s the warmest, sweetest, most comfortable feeling in the world, and it’s a precious thing.”

With a wonderful, warm jolt down her spine, Lydia knew right away that she and Laura didn’t need a ceremony. They needed need some sort of paperwork, or a werewolf ritual.

They were already bonded for life.


	5. All I Want For Christmas Is You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter...I hope you guys love this fic as much as I loved writing it! Special thanks to AO3/Tumblr user [candyvan](http://archiveofourown.org/users/candyvan) for making [this amazing Laura/Lydia edit](http://hollandrodensthighs.tumblr.com/post/72311401081/stick-with-me-baby-by-freshbrains-its-like-if), which inspired the ending scene of this fic. You guys have been amazing, and I'm glad to share this fic with you. 
> 
> This chapter is a little longer and has alternating POV, starting with Laura. Enjoy!

Laura tried to call Lydia twice Sunday morning, but her calls went straight to voicemail—the only reason she wasn’t freaking out was because Lydia tailor-made an inbox message saying “ _Laura, I’m sleeping late at Allison’s, I have no business being awake before noon. Love you and see you soon._ ” Laura just rolled her eyes when she heard it and fixed herself a third cup of coffee.

The loft felt cold and empty without Lydia flitting around organizing things, cooking, reading, and making everything generally brighter. Laura couldn’t remember the last time they spent more than two full days apart. She called Lydia because she missed her voice, but also because she was still a little stumped as to why Lydia would choose to take a weekend at Beacon Hills when they’d be travelling there together the next day for Christmas. She wanted to suggest Lydia just stay in town and Laura could meet her there, but none of Lydia’s holiday things were packed and she said she’d be back that day.

The whole thing made Laura uneasy—especially since she had her cell in her hand, ready to call her mother and ask if she could have her grandmother’s ring to propose to Lydia. 

Laura bit her thumbnail, wondering for the millionth time if she was making the right decision. It felt perfectly right for _her_ —on the way back to the loft from Marin’s, the world seemed crystal clear and light as air (and she was almost positive it wasn’t simply due to the three glasses of wine). It was just Lydia’s response she was worried about—as well as her mother’s, Derek’s, Cora’s...and Peter’s, god forbid. She dialed her old home phone number and waited for Talia to pick up.

“Hello darling, I was just thinking about you.” Talia’s voice was warm and cheerful and Laura felt tears prick her eyes upon hearing her mother’s voice.

“Hi Mama, how are you?”

“Very well, I had an enlightening weekend. I miss talking to you.”

Laura’s chest tightened. “I miss it too. But I’m not going to stay away anymore. I’m going to make everything perfect.” She took a deep breath and looked around the loft, their perfect pretty home. “I’m going to ask Lydia to marry me. Like, officially. I know this may seem sudden, and I know the family might have trouble getting used to it, but I want Lydia to be a member of the family.” Laura closed her eyes. “I want her to know you like _I_ know you.”

Talia was quiet for a moment, and every millisecond of phone static made Laura’s heart pound harder. “Laura, relax, I’m very happy,” she finally said with a small life. “I’m just a little speechless.”

Laura laughed, nervous and short. “I can’t believe you can hear my heartbeat through the phone, my god.”

Talia laughed. “I’m your mother, of course I can. I’m very proud of you, my sweet girl. I hope you know that.”

Laura curled into the couch and gave up on trying to stop the tears. “I haven’t done much to make you proud, Mama.”

Talia clucked her tongue. “Why do you say that?”

“I left home,” Laura said softly, wiping away her tears. “I’m an alpha, and I left my pack. I took a mate and barely even realized it, then I didn’t even tell my _pack_ about my mate. I’m sort of a mess of a werewolf.”

Talia sighed. “You’re not a mess. You’re a brave, independent young woman who has found love outside of her home. You want to get married and start a pack of your own. I hate to say it, Laura, but you’re one hell of a normal werewolf.”

Laura snuggled into the couch pillow, the same way she always did when she talked to Lydia when Lydia cooked. “I miss you. I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to introduce you to Lydia.” She recalled a few moments when Lydia was in high school and hung out with Scott and the pack, avoiding the curious gaze of the Hale matriarch. “Officially, that is.”

Talia laughed softly. “I can’t wait either, Laura.”

“So does this mean I have your blessing?”

“Of course. Miss Martin was resourceful enough to best my dastardly brother, I’m positive she’ll make a wonderful mate for you.”

Laura decided to try her luck. “I know it’s pretty special to you, and I understand if you want to keep it awhile longer, but I was wondering if…”

“I would love to pass down your grandmother’s ring. After your father died, I knew I wanted to give the ring to you whenever you got married. And I’d be honored if your mate wore it.” Talia always sounded so sure of herself, so serene. Laura didn’t know how she did it.

“Thank you. I mean it.”

“I know, my love.”

When Laura hung up, she felt a peaceful tug in her chest that usually only came around when she was curled around Lydia in bed.

*

“And you think _I’m_ a lazybones for sleeping in,” Lydia whispered, her fingers running through Laura’s hair where it was fanned out on the pillow. “Scoot over, you’re on my side.”

Laura sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes like a toddler. “Holy shit, I didn’t even hear you come in. You’re like a ninja.” She shifted over, letting Lydia occupy the warm space. Lydia curled into Laura’s side, resting her hand on Laura’s tummy, on her favorite soft spot right beneath her breast bone. “When did you get back?”

“Not too long ago, I fixed lunch and packed a little for tomorrow when I saw you were napping. Are you feeling okay?” She pressed a hand to Laura’s forehead, but Laura swatted her away with a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a…weird morning,” she said, avoiding Lydia’s soft gaze.

Lydia rested her chin in the crook of Laura’s neck and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her throat. “It seems we’re having a string of weird mornings. And afternoons. And evenings, actually.” When she told Allison about the mating situation earlier, Allison just giggled and rolled her eyes—she said that she _totally_ knew already and that even _Scott_ knew, which Lydia would never tell Laura because it would be humiliating for an alpha to be bested by a young beta. 

Lydia wanted to let Laura know, tell her how it really felt to love her each and every day—how Lydia had been her mate since the second Laura looked across the bar, raised an eyebrow, and said, “Wow, the preppy redhead sure grew up nice.” After her visit with Talia, everything was clear—they didn’t need rings or wedding or mating beds. They only needed each other.

But alas, Lydia was not a werewolf. She would never be a werewolf—she just didn’t know how to approach these things. And when Lydia’s unflappable confidence was, well, _flapped_ , she froze up.

“How are the McCall-Argents holding up out there?” Laura asked, shaking Lydia out of her introspection.

“Not so bad,” Lydia said, distracted, still mulling everything over. “They’re going to try for a baby soon. If anyone is nesting, it’s Scott. He practically builds Allison a perch every time she sits down.”

Laura laughed, but Lydia thought it sounded a little hollow. She looked up and playfully grabbed Laura’s chin. “Okay, time to fess up, missy. You’re being weird.”

“I’m not being weird,” Laura said, her face smushed in Lydia’s hand. “You’re the weirdo going on secret Beacon Hills missions the day before we go visit my family for Christmas.”

Lydia gasped haughtily. “Hey, I wanted to see Allison! My motives are pure.”

Laura snorted out a laugh, jerking her face a little in Lydia’s grasp. “I can smell a lie all over you. It’s sort of hot, actually…you smell like cherry blossoms when you lie.”

Lydia made a pleased expression before Laura licked her fingers, still pinched around her chin. Lydia squealed, pulling her hand away. “Oh, you nasty little…seriously, can we ever have an adult conversation?”

Laura rolled her eyes and pulled Lydia closer to her. “All we’ve been doing since this whole mating thing came up is having _adult conversations_. I have you all snuggly and warm in bed, I’d rather have an adult conversation of a different sort, you know what I mean?”

Lydia couldn’t even stifle a laugh—Laura could be frustrating, but she was still a total dork. “Ugh, you’re the worst. Okay, I’m putting some ice on this before my underwear is across the room. After that happens, we’ll never talk.” She sat up, hair mussed, and Laura groaned.

“As you wish, my lady,” Laura huffed, sitting up cross-legged to face Lydia on the bed. It was a good time to have a serious conversation—warm and close in their private bedroom, the winter sun low outside, the room smelling like a sweet combination of their scents. “Let’s talk.”

“Are you my mate?”

*

Lydia just blurted it out, palms open on her knees, like she was baring everything to Laura. It was so soft and open, so unbelievably un-Lydia, that Laura was almost concerned.

Laura opened her mouth, eyes wide, trying to gauge Lydia’s mood. She smelled sharp, still sweet, but not angry or sad…embarrassed, maybe? Confused? _Ugh, I really am a failwolf_ , Laura thought. “I don’t…I don’t really know, Lydia. I _love_ you. I know that for sure.”

“And I love you too,” Lydia said earnestly, face still drawn and serious. “But do you feel like I’m your mate?” She took Laura’s hands, gentle and warm. “Because _I_ feel like _your_ mate.”

Laura inhaled sharply. She liked the way it sounded coming from Lydia, soft and hushed— _I feel like your mate_. “What does it feel like?”

“Safe,” Lydia said, twirling a piece of Laura’s dark hair between her fingers. “Warm. Comfortable. It feels like home.” She leaned in and kissed Laura gently on the lips. “It feels like _family_.”

Laura opened her arms, and Lydia clambered into her lap, snuggling into her chest. She was small compared to Laura, compact and sweet, and Laura enveloped her in a tight hug. “I was always trying so hard to be a good alpha…I thought I had to follow all the rules. I thought mating was something I was supposed to plan.”

Lydia looked up, her eyes big and Bambi-coy through her lashes. “Laura Hale, didn’t anyone ever tell you that love knows no rules?”

Laura groaned, tackling Lydia into the bed, pressing her down onto the soft duvet (their blue and green stripes duvet, picked out by both of them, something they did _together_ ). “Now who’s the worst?”

“Still you,” Lydia said softly, cupping Laura’s face in her hands, looking her in the eye like she was still figuring Laura out, even after all their time together. “Now, tell me, Laura. Am I your mate?”

Laura kissed Lydia, hard and wet and just perfect. “Yes,” she whispered, breathing in Lydia’s scent. “You’re my mate.”

Lydia wrapped her arms around Laura’s neck and her legs around Laura’s hips, clinging to her like a cuddly octopus. “I knew it. I totally knew it. Do you think it was the nesting bond, or the habitat bond?”

Laura groaned. “Marin totally called you last night, didn’t she?”

Lydia giggled haughtily. “This afternoon, actually. She totally played you. Some things you just won’t find in books, alpha mine.”

Laura nodded and kissed Lydia again. “I love you. It’s actually stupid how much I love you.”

Lydia preened, baring her neck for a kiss. “Undoubtedly. But I’ll stick with you.”

Laura growled and went in for the kiss.

*  
 _The Next Day_

Family dinner with the Hales wasn’t nearly as bad as Lydia thought it would be (especially since she gained Talia’s respect beforehand). The house was warm and inviting, even more bustling than before, and everyone was in high spirits.

“Mom, this is Lydia. I know you’ll love her just as much as I do.” Laura sounded incredibly proud as she introduced Lydia, and Lydia smiled at Talia before extending her hand.

“I’m happy to meet you, Mrs. Hale,” she said with a soft smile.

Talia smiled back and when Laura looked away to greet Derek in the living room, she winked at Lydia. “Happy to meet you too, sweetheart. What a lovely dress.”

“Thank you,” Lydia said earnestly. “It was my mother’s.” She smoothed her hands down her A-line red velvet Christmas dress, paired with black tights and black heels. It felt a little too classic for Lydia’s usual tastes, but Laura always had a fondness for red.

“Lydia, you remember Derek, of course,” Laura said a little nervously, taking Lydia’s arm and leading her into the living room. Derek sat on the sofa with a pretty brunette woman, his hand entwined with hers. When he saw Lydia, he nodded, as if there was some sort of invisible truce between them, a truce that said _I’ll accept you because Laura loves you, but if you break her heart, it’s so on_. “And this is his girlfriend…?” Laura trailed off, forgetting her name. Lydia rolled her eyes and squeezed Laura’s hand, but the woman just stood and shook hands with Laura, then Lydia.

“Hello, I’m Jennifer Blake. It’s nice to meet more of Derek’s family. He’s so private.” Her smile was contagious, but Lydia detected past pain behind her eyes. When she sat back down, she curled into Derek’s side, and Lydia could tell Derek brought this lovely, gentle-mannered woman out of a dark place.

“Miss Martin, good to see you again,” Peter said from the living room entryway.

“Uncle Peter, skulking on the fringes as always. Are you being normal today, or should we turn out the lights and let you hold a flashlight under your face?” Laura wrapped a protective arm around Lydia’s waist and a silence fell over the room, but Lydia just flipped her hair confidently and strode up to Peter, hand held out.

“Peter. Thank you for having me in your home. I’m sure we’ll get along just fine, since that’s what your niece wants more than anything.” She kept her steely gaze trained in Peter, and Laura held her breath until Peter took her hand.

“I’m sure we will,” he said quietly, and his eyes surely said that he still had no idea what to make of Lydia.

Soon after that, Laura ushered Lydia into the kitchen, where she pressed her up against the kitchen counter and kissed her hard, hands roaming down her back to her ass. “God, you are so fucking hot when you’re all confident and smart and shit,” Laura breathed, kiss Lydia on the neck and down by the collar of her dress.

Lydia giggled, twisting her hands in Laura’s hair. “Calm down Lassie, I’m pretty sure your family knows you’re attacking me right now.”

“Don’t care,” Laura said, nipping at Lydia’s neck as her hand wandered up Lydia’s dress.

“Laura Elizabeth, _behave_ ,” Talia warned from the living room, and Lydia pushed Laura off with a shriek. They hid their laughter in each other’s necks, and Laura still refused to let Lydia go.

“Best Christmas ever,” Laura said softly. “Having you here, in my house, with my family. How did we get here?”

Lydia shrugged, twining her arms around Laura’s neck. “No fucking idea, Hale. Kiss me again and make it count, because I’m going to be mingling with your family for hours and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Laura dipped Lydia dramatically, and god damn, she made the kiss count.

*

“So this is where the magic happened?” Lydia tumbled into Laura’s childhood bedroom late that night before Laura even had time to go in and prepare—she still had her Ashlee Simpson posters on the wall, and _shit_ , was that her seventh grade headgear photo on her desk? Her family was all tucked into their beds, awaiting Christmas morning, but she wanted to wake them and yell at them for letting her fall into the embarrassing childhood trap.

“What magic? Puberty?” Laura scanned the room, her stomach turning. It was weird being back there after being gone for so long—she barely remember what it felt like to be a baby wolf in her bedroom, learning to control her shifts and claws, looking at her fur in her purple-framed mirror. 

Lydia laughed. “No, silly. You grew up in this room.” She allowed Laura to wrap her arms around her waist from behind. Laura buried her nose in Lydia’s sweet-scented hair. “You became an alpha here. That’s really amazing, you know.”

Laura kissed her on top of her head and linked their fingers together over Lydia’s stomach. “I lost my virginity in this room, too.”

Lydia smiled, leaning back into Laura’s warm body, still looking around the room at all of the little-girl stuffed animals and books. “Scandalous. With who?”

“Marin, of course.”

Lydia pinched Laura’s arm, laughing. “Oh, yeah right. I bet Marin was way too cool for you in high school.”

“Actually, she was a band geek. I was on the track team. Homecoming queen, too.”

Laura turned around, pupils blown, cheeks flushed from wine and holiday excitement. “No shit! I knew I picked a winner.” She pecked Laura on the lips. “But really, who was it?”

Laura brushed Lydia’s hair back, pressing the cool back of her hand to Lydia’s face. “They weren’t important. Just a high school crush. It didn’t matter.”

Lydia rolled her eyes, but kissed Laura’s palm. She looked up at her through her eyelashes, a devilish smile spreading across her lips. “Laura Hale, are you going to fuck me on your twin bed tonight, in your childhood bedroom?”

Laura buried her face in her hands and flopped onto the bed, laughing. “Oh god, I am so going to hell for being turned on by that.” Lydia flopped down next to her, throwing an arm across her waist. But before they could get too cozy (or start having an _adult conversation_ ), Laura sat up again, swallowing hard. “I, uh…I have something for you. A gift.”

Lydia sat up alongside her, hair mussed and soft, face beautiful in the light of the desk lamp. “Ooh, I must’ve been a good girl this year.”

“The best,” Laura said, even though she knew Lydia would think it was corny. She leaned over and dug into the pocket of her jeans (her fanciest Christmas jeans), pulling out a scuffed blue velvet box.

The second Lydia saw it, she inhaled sharply, eyes widening. She opened her mouth to say something, but Laura held her hands up.

“Before you say anything, I need you to know that this doesn’t have to mean what everyone thinks it means. It doesn’t mean weddings, or documents, or ceremonies. It doesn’t mean we change our last names or move to the suburbs. It doesn’t mean we have to change _anything_.” She opened the box so Lydia could see the ring. “It just means that I love you, and I want you to know that I’m in it for the long haul.” She smiled, tears in her eyes. “Officially.”

Lydia clapped a hand over her mouth. “God damn it, Laura, you’re making me cry!” She thrust her other hand out, waggling her manicured fingers. “Put it on me, put it on me!”

Laura laughed, beaming and slid the ring into Lydia’s fingers, her own hand shaking. “This was my grandmother’s.”

Lydia wiped her eyes and examined the ring. “Oh my god, is that a triskelion? And what is this symbol, what does it mean?” She turned the ring around.

“I don’t know,” Lydia laughed. “You’re the scholar.”

Lydia took Laura’s hand and pulled her in for a kiss. “Some things never change, do they?”

"I wouldn't have it any other way," Laura said, and happily kissed her mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thanks again for reading. And if you guys are jonesing for an epilogue or some kind of wrap-up scene or just any sort of general tidbit, let me know, because I love this pairing!
> 
> Minor changes to tags, and minor pairings added.


End file.
